


Set Me on Fire (After I Gaze in Your Eyes)

by bella2mytricx



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz pov, Enemies, M/M, One Shot, also, are they really, baz being the overdramatic bastard that he is, every read is a donation to gayness, it's what baz says to help himself sleep at night, it's why we love him, read and be gay, therefore you must read, yes they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella2mytricx/pseuds/bella2mytricx
Summary: Snow twists his neck sharply; slender and smooth. His eye catches on the three of us, but his gaze settles on me.“Who did that?” He asks; knowing. His brow furrows as he squints against the gleam of the sun.“Baz.” He squares his shoulders, levels his head. Edged with combat. “What?”
Relationships: Dev & Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100





	Set Me on Fire (After I Gaze in Your Eyes)

I launch an acorn at his ear, targeting the mole. _The_ mole. The one right in the middle of his lobe; in which I am rewarded with an exquisite glimpse of when he tosses on his side during the night.

At my side, Dev and Niall eye me wearily; suspiciously, but both remain silent.

Snow twists his neck sharply; slender and smooth. His eye catches on the three of us, but his gaze settles on me.

“Who did that?” He asks; knowing. His brow furrows as he squints against the gleam of the sun.

“Baz.” He squares his shoulders, levels his head. Edged with combat. “What?”

Oh.

So he’s still staring at me.

That’s fine. That’s completely fine. It’s not at all as though I now have the compelling urge to strike a flame and set myself alight. Go up in flames. Head to toe.

No. He’d probably enjoy that. I’d most likely be doing him a favour through my own self-disintegration. I suppose I’ll let my glorious body abide on this earth for another while yet then. Yes. I’ll do exactly that. I’ll live. Just to spite him.

But with self-immolation no longer an option, I now have to actually say something. I hadn’t exactly planned beyond my acorn-hurling theatrics.

Merlin only knows what a gaping idiot I must look like right now.

Beside me, Niall and Dev have submerged themselves in conversation, drivelling on about some menial nonsense. Dammit. I really am confronting this on my own. _Fine_.

I quirk an eyebrow and sigh exasperatedly, making my delay in response appear purposeful. It’s one of my many talents in life; possessing the ability to claim any situation no matter how out of my depth I may be. (Fiona told me it will catch up with me someday.) (I told her it won’t be before lung cancer catches up with her.) (I acquired a clout around the ear for that.)

“Nothing,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I just felt obliged to inform you that you have a beautiful sporting of loo roll decorating your shoes.”

Snow’s face reddens as he snaps his eyes to his feet, then turns that mighty glare on me upon finding them spotless. Merlin. Those eyes.

His bag plummets to the ground. He steps one foot closer.

“No I don’t.”

“Oh really?” I respond, swallowing. “It must just be your hideously tattered trainers scourging my eyes.”

He takes another step. Then another. And _Crowley_ , all of a sudden I’m aware of the faint pant of his breath ghosting my chin; travelling the length of my neck. Dear Merlin, I’d happily die like this.

And our eyes, they _lock_.

He pauses a moment, his lips parting. ( _The actual bastard_.)

And. I think my breath hitches. If I didn’t know I was a pathetically raging homosexual before, I do now.

But then his gaze flicks over to Dev and Niall and suddenly anything he was about to say, or _do_ has evaporated in the air; snatched from right under my nose. _Damn_ those two clowns. It is in this exact moment that I deduce that an excruciating, strategically devised downfall is precisely what is imperative for my two best friends. I make a mental note to begin plotting it after tea.

Snow eyes me once more then turns on his heel. My breath shakes.

Thank Crowley. It’s not as though I took _pleasure_ in having his face, that mouth, mere inches from my own; allowing me to pinpoint several of those God-forsaken moles scattered along his cheeks, so close I could have reached a gentle fingertip out and traced them, his sweaty bronze curls sticking to his forehead and swarming his eyes.

No.

I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god they, are pathetic


End file.
